


I'll Stay With You

by SK_Jane



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Car Accidents, Character Death, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Families of Choice, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homelessness, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Violence, ghost story, haunted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 05:11:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17217638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SK_Jane/pseuds/SK_Jane
Summary: No one goes near the playground at night. The wails of a spirit haunt the grounds, bloody and vengeful....or are they really? Are things always as they seem or will George uncover something more innocent about these wails that terrify all those who hear them. Is the spirit as vengeful as they sound or are they scared themselves





	I'll Stay With You

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first story I'm posting online here or anywhere so... share your thoughts but don't be mean I guess. I wrote this for a short story writing assignment for school with the prompt "Write a story in which a ghostly presence plays a significant role". So enjoy I guess.

Mandy Connelly was a sweet little girl of seven. Every weekend her parents used to take her to the playground on the other side of the town. She'd have so much fun there, running and playing with whatever kids were there. She made friends so easily. Even at the ripe age of seven she still loved it when her dad came and would push her on the swings. He pushed her higher than anyone else and she felt like she could fly, if only for a minute. Everything was perfect....Until it wasn't. One Sunday when Mandy and her mam were walking over to the park tragedy struck in the form of a speeding car and a broken red light. Mandy was dead before she hit the ground. The funeral was held a few days later and her parents wept as their baby was lowered slowly into the ground in her too small coffin after a too short life. They never noticed the white misty form that had continued on its way to play as though nothing had happened.

Years past and rumours spread of a ghostly presence in the playground where children laughed and played by day, content and oblivious to their specteral playmate who grew lonely at being ignored. Never understanding why no one would speak to her anymore and why her parents never came to push her and let her fly once more. At night when the light faded and the only light was that of passing cars and the moon overhead she would wail and cry. Terrified of the creatures that hid in the dark for there had to be a reason anyone who did visit after sunset would run screaming. Never knowing that she was the very creature she so feared. A spectural figure with spiralling hair and a pretty summer dress stained with blood from the accident that led to her demise. For all this time she waited and waited and waited because she, for all the times she'd travelled there, couldn't remember the way home and resigned herself to wait for her mam and dad to come collect her. Never noticing as the years slipped by. 

 

George Micheals seemed to be a pretty average 16 year old, tall with brown hair, decent grades, good friends. Yeah, pretty average, except he wasn't. His mother had died of cancer when he was young and his father had never gotten over it. Falling into a seemingly endless cycle of work, drink, beat his son, sleep and repeat. George knew that his father was abusive and that it wasn't right at all but held out hope that one day things woulg go back to the way they used to be when his mothers laughter lit the kitchen and his father was a protector, not his assailant. He always held out hope his dad would return to him and they could forget about the monster who controlled his body for so long. Another thing that made George a little less average was the fact that he was gay. He'd been in a relationship with his boyfriend Darrah for almost nine months. Nine glorious months of soft kisses and warm hands. He guessed that after so long he fell complacent, didn't check that they couldn't be seen because who cared he was hopelessly and madly in love the way only those whose hearts had never been broken can be. It was a harmless moment that got him caught in the end. Holding hands as they walked down the street, not realizing his father could see them.

George never noticed anything was wrong, too content to enjoy his day. When he went home that evening he was shocked to find his things thrown out in the garden and the door locked. He knocked quickly and called inside asking his dad what was wrong and to let him in. Suddenly, the door was thrown open and his father filled the space, fuming. "I won't have a goddamn pansy for a son," he raged "take whatever and get the hell away from my house. I never want to see you useless waste of air again". George was shocked, no her was flabbergasted. How could such an amazing day turn so horrible so quickly? He begged his father to let him back in, that he must have made a mistake but all he got for his troubles was a door slammed in his tearstained face. He gathered some clothes, toiletries and his school books and shoved them in a duffle bag. He couldn't tell anyone what had happened he resolved. As much as his dad had hurt him and hated him, he was still his dad and he loved him. George wandered for a bit trying to find a place to spend the night that was quickly falling when he stumbled upon the empty playground. He knew no one would be there, to afraid of a fictional ghost made up to convince unruly children to come home without a fuss. In addition to that the playhouse seemed like the perfect place to take shelter till his dad cooled down and let him back in... Hopefully it was soon, winter wasn't far off.

 

That night as the moon rose and George settled himself into his makeshift bed, clothed in his warmest jeans and jacket was when it began. Mandy's nightly wail for her parents to keep her safe from the dark. George believing some poor child had gotten lost, ventured out to see if they were ok and was startled to see the spectral image of a little girl sitting on the swings crying. He didn't know what to do. How does one comfort a ghost? Is that even a thing? To comfort a ghost? He remembered all the nights he'd spent alone wishing his dad would come home sober for once and hug him like he used to. With this resolve in mind he walked slowly towards her.

"Hi, my name's George. What's your name?" Mandy's head whipped up, it had been so long since someone had acknowledged her

"Mandy"

"Well Mandy, what's a sweet little girl like you doing here so late?" he questioned softly sitting on the swing beside her.

"I'm waiting for my mam and dad. I'm not allowed to leave by myself"

"Well then, Mandy-darling, would you like someone to keep you company while you wait? I'm staying in that little house over there tonight and your welcome to join me" 

She thought about it for a minute but ultimately her loneliness won out and she agreed. They spent a lot of the night talking and the more they spoke the more certain George became that she had no idea she was dead, that she was the reason people ran in fear. He resolved not to tell her, to keep her tiny face smiling for as long as possible.

 

Every night for the weeks to come George came to the playground to sleep and keep Mandy company, telling her he had school during the day to avoid mentioning that as the sun rose her form became less visible, till he couldn't see her at all. He's spend hours pushing her on the swing. Letting her fly again. Playing hide and seek, ignoring the glow of her skin to stretch the game out and make her laugh. This little girl with corkscrew curls and a contagious smile grew to be his baby sister in all but blood.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end as we all know to well. As winter came and snow began to fall George continued to stay in the playground. Unwilling to leave Mandy alone to seek warmth for himself, however desperately he needed it. George passed away one freezing night swaddled in all his blankets and coats that were unable to stave off the pneumonia that came on the icy winds.

The morning after he died he awoke, and upon realizing he no longer felt cold looked down to discover his hands resembled Mandy's. He looked across the playhouse to where she was slumbering peacefully and concluded that there was no better was to go.

Soon the rumours of a wailing vengeful ghost were replaced by joyful and youthful laughter echoing from an unseen source. Mandy was no longer alone, her brother had joined her and scared away the monsters lurking in the dark. He helped her to fly again.


End file.
